The observation deck of the Aetherion hums faintly, its vast viewport framing a swirling nebula, purples and blues bleeding into the void. The young engineer, Elias, stands alone, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jumpsuit, staring at the stars but not really seeing them. His shoulders slump, his jaw tight with the weight of his thoughts. Footsteps echo softly behind him—Captain Zara, her boots clicking with purpose on the polished floor. She stops a few feet away, her silhouette sharp against the nebula’s glow.“Elias,” she says, her voice calm but carrying that edge of authority that makes people listen. “You’ve been avoiding the mess hall. And the engine bay’s been too quiet without you tinkering.”He doesn’t turn, just shifts his weight. “Didn’t think anyone noticed.”“I notice everything on my ship.” She steps closer, leaning casually against the railing, her dark eyes studying him. “What’s eating you? You’re not the type to sulk.”Elias exhales, sharp and frustrated. “I’m not sulking. I’m just… out of my depth, Captain. You’ve got a crew of neurally enhanced prodigies—Kael’s rewiring quantum drives in his head, Lila’s predicting nav errors before the system does. Me? I’m just a guy with a wrench and a half-decent degree. I’m slowing everyone down.”Zara tilts her head, her braid slipping over her shoulder. “Is that what you think? That you’re slowing us down?” Her tone isn’t pitying—it’s curious, like she’s inviting him to unpack the thought.He finally looks at her, his brown eyes flickering with doubt. “Last week, during the core recalibration, Kael had the solution mapped out in seconds. Took me an hour just to catch up. Yesterday, Lila spotted a coolant leak I missed. I’m not built like them, Captain. My brain doesn’t have their upgrades. I’m… obsolete.”Zara doesn’t respond right away. She crosses her arms, her expression unreadable, letting the silence stretch. The nebula pulses outside, a slow heartbeat of light. “What do you do when you miss something like that leak?” she asks finally.Elias blinks, thrown by the question. “I… I double-check my work. Run diagnostics again. Try to figure out where I went wrong.”“And when you figured out that leak was caused by a microfracture in the conduit—something the system didn’t even flag—who fixed it?”“I did,” he mutters, almost reluctantly. “But anyone could’ve—”“Could’ve what?” she cuts in, her voice still gentle but firm. “Patched it as fast as you did? Rerouted the secondary system to keep us stable while you worked? You think Kael would’ve crawled into that access tube himself?”Elias shrugs, his fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on his sleeve. “He wouldn’t need to. He’d probably redesign the whole system from his bunk.”Zara’s lips quirk into a half-smile. “Maybe. But Kael’s enhancements make him lazy sometimes. He trusts the numbers too much. You? You trust your hands, your gut. You see things they don’t.” She pauses, letting that sink in. “Why’d you sign up for this mission, Elias? Deep space isn’t exactly a cozy gig for a ‘guy with a wrench.’”He hesitates, his gaze drifting back to the nebula. “I wanted to prove I could keep up. That I could matter out here, even without…” He taps his temple, a bitter gesture. “But I’m not sure I do.”Zara nods, like she’s piecing something together. “When you were a kid, did you ever build something—anything—that you were proud of?”Elias huffs a small laugh, the sound tinged with nostalgia. “Yeah. A junky little hover-drone. Cobbled it together from scrap in my dad’s garage. Took me months, but it flew. Barely.”“And when it broke?” she prompts.“I fixed it. Kept tweaking it until it could outrun my neighbor’s drone.” He glances at her, confused. “Why’s that matter?”She straightens, stepping closer so they’re side by side, both facing the stars. “Because that’s who you are, Elias. You build, you fix, you keep going. Enhancements don’t make a crew. People do. You caught that microfracture because you checked the conduits by hand, not because a neural chip told you to. Lila missed it. Kael missed it. You didn’t.” Her voice softens. “You think you’re obsolete, but you’re the one keeping this ship in one piece.”He swallows, his throat tight. “What if I can’t keep up next time? What if I screw up something bigger?”“Then you’ll fix that too,” she says simply. “And I’ll be there to back you up. But if you walk away now, Elias, you’re not just doubting yourself—you’re doubting my judgment in picking you for this crew.”He turns to her, startled. “You picked me?”“Who else?” Her smile is full now, warm but sharp. “I don’t run a charity, Elias. I chose you because you’re stubborn, thorough, and you don’t quit. So, you tell me—are you staying, or are you going to make me regret my choice?”The nebula pulses again, casting light across Elias’s face as he holds her gaze. For the first time, there’s a flicker of resolve in his eyes. “I’m staying,” he says quietly, like he’s testing the words. Then, firmer: “I’m staying.”Zara nods, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Good. Now get back to the engine bay. That secondary relay’s been acting up, and I don’t trust Kael’s fancy brain to notice.” She turns to leave, pausing at the door. “Oh, and Elias? Next time you’re doubting yourself, come find me. I don’t have time for sulking.”He chuckles, the sound lighter now, and watches her go. Alone again, he looks out at the nebula, but this time, his hands are out of his pockets, already itching to get back to work.